It is warm in this water,
an oxbow which the river
once fed, yet distinguished
from itself, so what would flow there
now stands here; so it may watch
in the south dry and soundless
revelations of lightning,
and in the east maelstroms
of wind rustling leaves
from branches like a thing alive
And at its base my daughter tending
small flames and a tin of coffee,
where from my tent I feel myself vindicated
and beholden to this hidden grace.
About the Poet
Harold Strauss was once a geologist. These days, he enjoys the long days of retirement with his husband and keeps his mind busy with books and poetry.